Cooper struggles to defend Starmer’s incendiary immigration speech amid Powell comparisons

The morning after Keir Starmer’s inflammatory immigration remarks, it was Yvette Cooper who left, clearing the wreckage. His “island of strangers” line, delivered with the bluntness of a sledgehammer, had sent ripples through both wings of the political divide—alienating his own base while failing to impress the hard right. The backlash? Swift. Brutal. And unrelenting.

Even Nigel Farage raised an eyebrow, suggesting he’d have toned it down. That’s when you know the message has gone horribly wrong. Starmer painted a picture of Britain overrun by foreigners. Stepping out your front door, he implied, had become a hazardous venture. You might bump into someone speaking a different language—God forbid someone working for the NHS or paying taxes.

The message was clear, if garbled: Britain was losing itself. The damage done by immigrants? Incalculable, according to the prime minister. Literally. Starmer confessed he’d tried to crunch the numbers but had given up. The foreigners had, apparently, made the maths too tricky.

Predictably, the reaction split along familiar lines. The left-wing press detected unsettling echoes of Enoch Powell’s “rivers of blood” rhetoric. The right-wing outlets took a different approach: Starmer hadn’t gone far enough. He was posturing—desperate to lure Reform UK voters without meaning a word of it.

In trying to split the difference, Starmer had enraged both sides. Was this masterful triangulation or political self-sabotage? Either way, the fallout landed in Yvette Cooper’s lap. As home secretary, she was dispatched to defend the indefensible across the media rounds.

On BBC Radio 4’s Today, Nick Robinson came armed. He played two clips of Starmer—one from 2020 praising immigrants, the other from yesterday painting them as a threat. Which version was real?

Cooper, visibly strained, insisted both were. No contradiction. No problem. Keir was consistent, apparently—he liked some immigrants. The long-term, English-speaking, tax-paying ones. The others? Not so much. They were the bad foreigners. The media, she claimed, had taken his words out of context, overreacting to Starmer’s habit of speaking in hyperbole.

The “island of strangers” phrase? Not a nod to Powell, insisted Cooper. Totally different usage, despite being exactly the same words. Robinson, mercifully, let her off the hook. After all, he noted, this linguistic disaster likely came from some bungling No 10 staffer now claiming black was white.

The rest of the interview fared no better. Cooper and Starmer were aligned: immigration had gone too far. Nothing personal against foreigners—they just wanted fewer of them. Xenophobia, but with a polite smile. Enough was enough.

She tried to justify it as protective. Immigrants shouldn’t be exploited in low-paid jobs due to poor English. Better they didn’t come at all. In the care sector, where vacancies are rampant, her solution was to raise wages, without explaining who would foot the bill. Councils might cut other services. The elderly might pay more. Tough luck if you’ve got dementia and no savings.

Pressed further, Cooper flailed. The plan, she admitted, would only reduce net migration by about 100,000. Still leaving it at over 300,000—well above Labour’s own targets. She promised to go “further and faster.” Roundups? Camps? Nothing ruled out. England for the English.

While Cooper battled damage control, elsewhere, the privileged were having a fine day. Chris Weston, Thames Water’s CEO, calmly defended his £195,000 bonus just three months into the role. “Because I’m worth it,” he purred before the select committee. Someone’s got to pay for the pool and tennis court.

Meanwhile, the rest of the country wrestled with contradictions, confusion, and a Labour leadership drifting closer to the rhetoric it once swore to oppose.